No Longer Needed
by Anonymous-Nerds-Unite
Summary: Dick no longer sees his place in the family the same once he returns from a long captivity.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This chapter is really short and not nearly as long as I hoped to make it, but I'm going to leave it like this. I'm sorry for the delay; life happens. **

**Warnings (for the entire story): Language, violence, depression, suicidal thoughts, possible character death**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any affiliated franchise.**

A week is a long time.

Two weeks is even longer.

Nightwing had next to nothing else to reflect upon, so used up were his thoughts, that this seemed like a brief salvation from the darkness of idleness. Now as the third week of his captivity reared its head he waited. It was a boring – and yet simultaneously horrifying – existence. He waited is a corner of a large room, knees drawn to chest, head held in hands, for something to happen. He tried to think constantly especially when the videos came on. He did not know how, but his greatest failures played from recording before his eyes. That was what the videos were. If he tried to look away a door was opened and light poured in to illuminate his petrified form as someone entered. Then hands grabbed his head, gripping and squeezing no matter how hard he struggled, never letting go. Failure after failure flashed before his eyes, changing from minor disobedience to offensive words spoken in moments of tension. Then the worst came, images appearing of him as he hit his brothers without being able to control himself. Damian, Tim, Jason, all lying in pools of his own blood from _him. _Then Bruce and Alfred ran in, picking the sibling up tenderly and shooting him glares filled with rage. When the lives of the younger were finished despite the best efforts of the two, Bruce entered with hatred burning in his eyes. Alfred stood by his side with the same expression.

"You are to leave this house." The words stung. Didn't Bruce know he wouldn't ever do such a thing? Didn't Bruce know he would rather _die_? But he had done it. The blood on Alfred's hands proved it even if he didn't believe it in his mind. He had beaten his brothers.

"Alfred –,"

"I believe it would be best for us all, Mister Grayson."

Alfred had alienated him. Bruce loathed him. Damian, Tim, and Jason were on their death beds because of him. Alfred was right.

Without another word, he left.

Then the screen went black and left Dick alone to cry in the dark.

The situation he had just seen played out again and again in his dreams, each time he could almost feel a surge of excitement as he watched one brother after another fall before his vicious onslaught. It sickened him to his very core and he felt tears leaking down his face as he awoke after crushing Jason's trachea.

He noticed absently that something warm – his blood. For a moment he thought it was Jason's but it was _his, his, his,_ – was dripping down his arms. His fingers had embedded themselves there during the dream as if seeking some type of comfort. All they found was a sickening reminder that he was still alive in this Hell.

Where was Bruce? Tim? Damian? Had they abandoned him? Never had he been alone for so long, and the very air seemed to press around his head. No comforting words were spoken into his ear nor promises of everything being alright. No one was there to tell him to hang on, so he didn't.

Were the images why they had left him alone? Had he attacked them? No, it was his blood on his hands, not theirs, never theirs. He would never do anything to harm them. They were coming for him. It was just hard for them to find this place. They would come and promise the images were fake, show him they weren't hurt by him and he would check every place he remembered hurting them only to find nothing. That was it. They were coming. He just had to find something on which he could hold. So he let his fingers dig into his arms and tightened his grip.

He lost count of the days that passed this way, with his head resting upon his knees and fingers digging into arms. No matter how hard he made his grip, he continued to slip away. He had just let go when the door was opened and someone entered that forsaken room for the final time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Before you read this chapter, this is INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT! I replaced the first chapter, and will now be basing this story from that. I will take more time between posts to create longer and – hopefully – better crafted chapters. With a bit of luck this will clear any questions from before, as well as lessen the referencing past events without elaboration. So, before you read this, please read the first chapter. **

**Also, for this story, I am assuming that Tim's parents are both dead even if that does not fit with the official timelines. Also, though I am not sure this is correct, I found that the ages when Dick is 28 are Jason is 24, Tim is 20, and Damian is 10. I'm making Tim younger at about 15. As I don't have a good feel for either Cassandra or Stephanie, I'm leaving them out. I may choose to leave out Oracle as well.**

**Any canon elements I miss, please let me know, as well as things you would like to see. **

**THIS CHAPTER IS OVER 1,300 WORDS LONG!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any affiliated franchise. **

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Tim massaged his temples as an intense, persistent burning sensation spread through the front of his head and worsened as thunder seemed to bellow in his room. Though he knew that no vigilante-related work was allowed outside the confines of the cave, he had downloaded and was now looking at Batman's most recently accessed files. He knew there was something his surrogate father was attempting to hide – and doing a poor job of.

If Batman was at his normal par, Tim had no doubt that he would not have a clue as to anything being wrong. But, as it stood, the Bat had become moody recently instead of his calculating, almost detached demeanor. Bruce usually only became like that if something was wrong and even then often solely when one of his sons was involved. The only exception was a stupefying case, and Tim hoped that was the cause, though he had never known life to be that kind.

Tim doubted that the son in question was himself or Damian. Neither had been injured on patrol lately and had not had a severe spat since the time Dick visited and paid attention more to Tim than Damian. (Not that Damian would ever admit it was due to his jealousy that he had planted an armed exploding batarang in Tim's belt before patrol.) It was possible that the change in behavior was due to Alfred's old age – by an illness, perhaps, that he didn't know how to cure – but Tim found that unlikely which left Dick and Jason. Tim did find it hard, of course, to believe that Bruce hadn't mentioned anything befalling either sibling and yet this simply led him to believe that the man was having difficulty locating whichever brother had disappeared off the grid. With the simple fact that Jason did that action regularly without causing these bizarre changes in attitude left only one brother. After diverting from his patrol route and stopping in Blüdhaven to try – and fail – to glean a glimpse of his favorite sibling (not that there was a plethora of brothers to choose from), worry had bloomed in his chest. Before he went jumping to conclusions, however, he reminded himself that Dick had gone to ground before on a case. So Tim had resolved to check Bruce's files to see if there were any mentions of an unsolved case that could be bothering the man.

Tim opened the most recently accessed file and only skimmed the information. Apparently there was a new minor villain in Gotham – one whose identity B had yet to discover. That could very well be the cause of his apparent apprehension, so Tim made a mental note of it, closed the file and opened the next one. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found the cause of the mood shift.

Tim wasn't the only one who had noticed Dick's absence. It appeared Riddler had escaped and Batman – unable to find him – believed he had made his way to Blüdhaven in the belief an ill fate had befallen the hero. From there, he returned every other day, but only long enough to leave riddle to taunt B with the fact that he was still out. There were several speculations in the file as to the possible reasons Dick had not returned the villain with his ego in pieces. These included that he may be undercover or be trying to lead a villain or two into a false sense of security, but at the end of the file was the damning conclusion. **_He can't._**

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Jason crashed on his couch – though he doubted it could be called that – at around 5 in the morning after a tiring night of getting his anger out. He was currently holed up in Blüdhaven, so of course Riddler had crossed the river and Goldie had chosen that fine time to vanish. Jason didn't mind terribly if a couple more thugs got what they deserved, but he was forced to restrain himself unless he wanted B to realize the unwanted child was causing trouble and to come huffing and puffing to get his ass out. No, let daddy dearest think that the problem child was halfway across the world while Jason took people out beneath his nose. It was surprisingly satisfying to know B was paying attention to the city and still by-passed him.

He tossed his gun onto the ground, followed by his hood, domino mask, and various other articles of clothing until he was left only in his undershirt and boxers. He left the pile of gear beside him; there was no need to worry about someone stumbling in as he had the largest collection of locks and other security measures that could be there without being conspicuous. And there was the tiny fact that he would shoot someone upon their entering.

His night had not been all beating drug sellers, thieves, and rapists, however. He had stopped by each and every one of Goldie's safe houses. He had had to avoid the Replacement at one point, and later that night the Replacement's replacement. Not only did he not want them running to the big, bad Daddy Bats with his whereabouts, but he didn't want to let them know his slight concern for his brother. (Though he was already pretty sure that at least Bruce knew. He could only hide visits to an injured Goldie so many times before someone noticed.) He reflected briefly that neither of the brothers likely knew the other was there and allowed himself to chuckle slightly at Tim obviously having similar feelings about the Demon spawn replacing him despite the fact that he denied it. Just how dumb did he think Jason was?

But that didn't change the fact that Dick hadn't been in or near any of his hideaways. Jason had saved his apartment for last.

_Jason slid silently into Dick's apartment via the window. His eyes flicked around at piles of dirty clothes that overlapped with unfinished bowls of dry cereal that had been left on the floor unfinished or cereal boxes. Almost every inch of floor – and the majority of the furniture – was covered with some sort of item that should have been put away. The only places that wasn't was the space in front of the table and on the table top. Anyone who didn't know Goldie would think this meant he did a lot at the table and technically that was true. The sap kept a picture of himself with Bruce and Tim smiling. The only good part of the picture was the fact that Tim had pulled Damian in a headlock – which was undoubtedly the source of his smile. Damian seemed truly embarrassed at his predicament as well as unable to escape and the demon had resigned himself to scowling. _

_Jason was slightly offended that Dick didn't have any picture of him – not that he would ever tell anyone that the eldest had gotten to him and infected him with bathos. That was until he made his way to Dick's bedroom where Dick should have been. On the bedside table sat a picture of the two brothers eating ice cream when Jason had been 13. He was sitting with his head against Dick's side and the elder's arm was hooked around his neck as he somehow managed to eat his ice cream with his feet. In the picture, his spoon was halfway to his mouth, grasped between his toes. _

_Jason had the impulse to tell the Replacements Squared __that he was closer. He might have if Dick had been in his room. He would rub it in their faces later. Right now he had to find the idiot. He pitied the fool who had even thought of messing with his brother._

Now he was still no closer to finding Goldie. If he didn't find him soon, Jason would go insane. Dick might too, if he wasn't already.

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**A/N: I'm putting a pole up for whether or not you want the villain to be from Batman or an OC. Batman villain may take me longer to work out, so please vote soon!**


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